Conquest
by SeaSpree
Summary: Annabeth doesn't need anyone to tell her what to do. Her father neglects her; her step-mother despises her. Her step-brothers simply don't care. It didn't take many years of loneliness to strip her of her dream to become a world famous architect. Instead, Annabeth decides to join the army. And maybe... maybe she could die an honorable death on the war front.
1. Prologue

"Greater in battle  
than the man who would conquer  
a thousand-thousand men,  
is he who would conquer  
just one —  
himself.  
Better to conquer yourself  
than others.  
When you've trained yourself,  
living in constant self-control,  
neither a deva nor gandhabba,  
nor a Mara banded with Brahmas,  
could turn that triumph  
back into defeat."

~Gautama Buddha

* * *

"And... I think that's it." Annabeth took a deep breath before handing the man behind the counter a vanilla folder with copies of all her important documents: birth certificate, medical history, and all that good stuff.

"Alright. We should be able to get back to you within two weeks." He took the vanilla folder, and snapped a black binder clip to the open side before setting it to the side, where there was a small pile of similar looking folders, no doubt with other recruits.

"Thank you so much." Annabeth grabbed her purse and turned to leave when the officer's voice stopped her again.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen," she said without hesitation, turning back to see that the officer had worried look on his face.

"It's not my place to tell you to do anything, but you're awfully young. Are you sure you want to do this?" A sudden white, hot rage surged through Annabeth. How dare he... she'd worked too hard to get here and get through with this behind his back...

"Are you insinuating that because I'm a girl, I can't deal with the challenges of army life?" She shot back. "Because I'm sure a lot of eighteen year old guys turn in applications, whether online or here, everyday, and I don't think anyone warns them." The officer didn't reply, but he also didn't back down from her stare.

Angry, sad, and a little, dare she say it, scared that there was no going back after this, whatever this was, Annabeth swiftly left, pushing the door out way harder than she needed to. The sound of the banging door gave her a sense of satisfaction.

She'd done it. She was going away. Army training. Then war. Maybe she'll even embrace an honorable death.

Only a few more weeks of sneaking. Then she'll be free.

Let's see how her father likes that.


	2. Chapter One — Dust Bunnies

"You're heading to college in a few weeks? I thought you said you hated school." Annabeth's dad looked at her suspiciously as she tried not to scowl. "What college?"

"Don't act so surprised." She waved her hand nonchalantly. "It's just Columbia." Annabeth stabbed a few peas with her fork to avoid looking up at her father. Columbia was an Ivy League school. Perhaps a little of an overshot of a lie, but she was prideful. Once upon a time, Columbia was the college she dreamed about going to, to pursue an architectural career.

Not anymore.

"Columbia... but, but... when did you apply?!"

"Oh, before the application deadline," she deadpanned. Her father let out a quiet sound of exasperation, as if trying to keep his daughter from hearing it.

"Oh, I know that, darling." Annabeth stiffened. "But I'm asking when the application deadline was."

"You could've said that in your previous question." The tension was rising in the dining room. Thank the gods Helen and the boys weren't home. Her step-mother would be yelling at her for being rude and disrespectful. "November first. I turned it in to get an early decision." It was so, so easy lying about Columbia. She had had the university's website pinned on her laptop for years, and the application pdf was still sitting in a folder somewhere in her flashdrive. She knew everything there was to know about the prestigious university, and now it didn't matter at all.

Her father gawked at her like she was some strange creature from Mars.

"And when did you find out?"

"Months ago," she replied easily.

"Annabeth..." Her father's temper was rising, that was for sure. Frederick Chase slowly rised, probably to yell at his daughter, but instead, the ringtone of a cell phone interrupted. "We're finishing this later," he warned.

"Sure," she replied. Annabeth had calculated this before. If the phone call was something related to work, then it would usually last at least thirty minutes, but more often over an hour or two. Not to mention, her father had a terrible memory. No; this conversation wouldn't be finished.

* * *

 _Three Weeks Later_

"I'm leaving. No calling, texting, emailing, anything." Annabeth looked her father in the eye. "Got it?"

"No problem. Have fun, 'kay?" Her father opened his arms for a hug when the phone rang again in another room. "Sorry, honey. Have fun," he repeated, before dropping his arms and disappearing into the study, probably to pick up his phone. Sure enough, the ringtone stopped seconds later.

Annabeth scowled, glaring down at the dust gathered around her feet, giving her white Nikes a greyish tint. The house hadn't been cleaned in ages. She didn't give a damn. She kicked open the door and, after grabbing her duffel, slammed it behind her.

A few minutes later, she was on the taxi, heading for San Francisco International Airport. Annabeth spent the time memorizing the landscape of the city. She wouldn't be coming back for a long time; not if she could help it.

An hour later brought her to the airport, and she went through check-in and security before relaxing at her gate: a one way flight to Columbia, South Carolina. She'd only relaxed a minute, though, before her seat creaked, and Annabeth noticed someone who had just sat down to her.

"Hope you don't mind I sit here." The woman looked young, about the same age as Annabeth, and had black hair and coal black eyes, and she was wearing army fatigues. "My name's Reyna."

"Annabeth." Reyna held out her hand, and Annabeth shook it. Her grip was hard and unrelenting. "You're joining the army as well?" Reyna cocked an eyebrow.

"So you are, too."

"Well, I'm glad to see that at least I won't be the only female in boot camp." Reyna laughed.

"Likewise."

The pair waited in silence for boarding, and when their boarding groups were called (she was Group C; Annabeth was D) they went their separate ways.

She couldn't afford to get attached to anyone during boot camp, or the army once she got through training. And as she entered the passenger walkway, a vent above blew air past her, blowing the remnants of dust from shoes and back into the airport.

Dust bunnies, she thought. Annabeth would leave behind San Francisco and everything else in it like dust bunnies.


	3. Chapter Two — Cadet

"Annabeth Chase."

"Welcome to boot camp, Chase. Get your uniform and everything else right over there. You're in Barrack 7, number 6A." The officer pointed to her left.

"Thank you, sir." Annabeth saluted him, although the action seemed awkward and strange. Still, it was better to get used to addressing her higher-ups.

Despite her clumsy salute, the officer nodded in acknowledgement of her effort and waved her on. Annabeth let out a sigh of relief. Suddenly, she went flying, her eyes wide as she stared at the ground coming toward her...

"Oh gods. I am so sorry." Her nose was an inch from the ground... Annabeth turned her head up and was met with a set of vivid sea green eyes. She'd never seen that shade of green before...

Heat was flushing up her cheeks, and the blonde haired woman quickly found her footing again. The green-eyed man let her go. A sudden wind seemed to catch on her skin; she hadn't realized how warm he was.

"I'm sorry—" she started, but the man interrupted her.

"No, it's not your fault. I was twirling around my goggles and then well, you know what happened." The goggles in mention were on the ground, and were blue and black. The man picked it up and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. It messed up his black hair even more. "I'm really sorry."

"It's alright." Annabeth smiled. After a moment of awkward silence, she noticed that passer-bys were giving them queer looks.

"My name's Percy. Percy Jackson." Percy gave her a goofy smile that Annabeth knew from experience and her step-brothers that it meant trouble. In the back of her mind, she wondered how the hell he got into the army with that mischievous aura.

On the other hand, she didn't really want to give him her name. No attachments, she'd said, and Percy was no exception. But the boot camp is so large anyway, her voice of logic reasoned. What are the chances that you guys will talk after this? What's the chance that you'll even be assigned to the same unit after boot camp?

"My name's An—" she hesitated. This could go horribly, horribly wrong. Yet what's the risk with giving out a name? "Annabeth Chase."

"Yo Perce!" The black haired guy turned around, and Annabeth followed the voice. The source was a guy with blonde hair, electric blue eyes, and pair of bronze rimmed glasses. "Stop flirting! Nico and I need you over here!"

"Be there in a sec bro!" Percy turned back around and gave Annabeth a grin. "Catch you around An-Annabeth Chase." be backed up and gave a wave before running off toward the blonde guy.

Annabeth couldn't help smiling just a bit, although inside, she was over analyzing like the paranoid nerd she was.

Percy hadn't refuted blonde guy's claim that he was flirting.

* * *

"Is this Barrack 7?" Annabeth asked a woman who was standing in front of the low building. The woman was beautiful, although even that was an understatement. Her choppy brown hair was in braids and her eyes seemed to change color every few seconds.

But she seemed roughly out of place in front of the barracks. Annabeth understood that this was boot camp, yet she couldn't help, but feel that the barracks could've been better made. Maybe with some more uniqueness instead of a line of grayish-white blocks lining the entire road.

"Sure is," the woman smiled. "The name's Piper. Piper Mc—" she stopped. "Just Piper. Come on in!"

The entire barrack was dismal looking. There were already a few people organizing their few belongings.

"What number are you?" Piper asked.

"Six A."

"Great. Your bed's that one, the one on top. Mine's Ten A."

"So..." Annabeth wet her lips. "Is Six B my battle buddy? I read online somewhere that—"

"They're doing something different this time," Piper interrupted her. "I asked one of the colonels, and he said they're pairing up the men with the women until the women run out."

"You asked a colonel, and he told you?" Annabeth asked incredulously.

"Oh. I can be very persuasive." Piper winked, and the blonde haired woman laughed. "Just hope that you get someone decent." And then, Piper muttered something so fast and quiet that Annabeth was barely able to hear it. It sounded something along the lines of I better be paired with Jason. But Piper had already turned around, adding a little skip to her step as she made her way to her bed.

* * *

Someone was already in bunk 6B, folding a paper airplane. Her hair was unnaturally spiky and her shirt had a Barbie doll with an arrow through her head. Although Annabeth hated Barbies growing up (her father never did understand her satiation for encyclopedias as a four year old), she had to internally wince. Barbies were weird, in her opinion, but they didn't deserve an arrow through the head.

"Oh. Hey. You must be my bunk buddy. Thalia." An awkward silence ensued as Annabeth waited for Thalia's last name.

"Grace," she whispered, although it was still snappish. "Don't repeat it. Please. I don't use my mother's surname."

"Annabeth Chase," Annabeth said as she nodded. Thalia obviously had issues with her mom, and despite knowing that parent-child turmoil feeling, Annabeth knew it wasn't her place to pry. "I'm in top bunk?" She continued. Thalia nodded.

"There's a list of rules and all that on your mattress." Thalia finished folding her plane. With a jolt, Annabeth realized, seeing the ink and the sentence 5. Recruits are suggested to keep this information somewhere safe at all times, that that was the information paper. But the paper plane was already flying, flying through air... a sound of paper slapping against plastic and then the plane disappeared in the huge garbage can across the room.

"Good aim," Annabeth breathed. Thalia shrugged.

"I have a way with air."


End file.
